


a feeling so startling

by alphahel (L1ghttAng3ll), apollonian



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-16 00:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11242557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L1ghttAng3ll/pseuds/alphahel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollonian/pseuds/apollonian
Summary: Stiles and Derek,swimming in the ocean,causing a commotion,'cause they are so awesome.Alternatively, the one in which everyone is a merperson and Stiles and Derek have a chance encounter.





	a feeling so startling

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the Sterek Reverse Bang, based on the wonderful art by alphahel, which you can see at the end of this work and also on tumblr [here](http://alphahel.tumblr.com/post/162169216497/sterek-reverse-bang-2017-a-feeling-so). The art was lovely and it gave me so many ideas and a ton of backstory that didn't make it into the final version, but I hope it's enjoyable regardless.
> 
> Thanks to my friend C for betaing this story so quickly despite me constantly procrastinating, and thanks to alphahel for being an awesome collaborator! It was great fun tossing around ideas with you and watching the story grow :)
> 
> The title comes from Vampire Weekend's song Bryn. The summary is cribbed from [the narwhal song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SX9IRXIF5Ak) (sorry for the earworm).

A loud horn sounded off in the distance, and Stiles startled, falling off the outcropping of rocks he’d been napping on, straight into the water. He yelped soundlessly, the water cold against his sun-warmed skin, almost swallowing a couple of the silvery little fish whose school he had fallen face-first into. His gills were working overtime, almost painful after having being shut for hours, and his eyes were stinging, since the protective third eyelid that allowed him to see in the water hadn’t covered them fast enough. He’d gotten some water up his nose, too, and he could feel the impending headache forming behind his eyes.

Stiles grumbled to himself. At least Scott hadn’t been there to tease him about his less than graceful reaction to the ship’s rude wake up call. He shook his head, trying to clear the last dregs of sleep from his brain, and wiggled, getting his limbs back in order. He’d just gotten everything in position when the ship’s horn sounded again, right above his head this time, and he fairly jumped out of his skin, yelling out some filthy words that his dad would definitely ground him for knowing. The school of fish had migrated to a safe distance, outside of the range of his flailing limbs, and were giving him unnecessarily judgmental looks.

“Not one word of this to anybody, you hear me?” Stiles told them. The fish, predictably, ignored him and swam away. Stiles sighed and stretched. He would love to nap for another couple of hours, but the sun was already sinking towards the horizon, and he had to be home before it set completely, so that he had time to get dinner ready before his dad came back. He rolled back his shoulders, letting his fins settle in, and then set off at a fast pace towards Beacon Colony, home sweet home.

The entirety of Beacon was fervently preparing for the annual ocean-wide Gathering coming up next week. His dad, in particular, had been busy running all over the place to make sure all the boundaries were secure and there were enough members of the guard to cover all the different venues, but Stiles knew his dad wouldn’t blow off dinner with him, even for the Gathering. That was part of the agreement they’d come up with after he’d gotten wind of the thing with Stiles and the swordfish.

Really, the swordfish thing hadn’t even been that bad, and it had only happened once. Maybe twice. 

Okay, maybe it had been three times, but it wasn’t Stiles’ fault that swordfish’s swords or bills or whatever were so _cool_. He had just wanted to touch one of them for science! His dad hadn’t bought his awesome reasoning though, even when Stiles had told him that in the end, it had all worked out: he had gotten up close and personal with a swordfish, the shoal of swordfish had managed to escape unscathed from the fishing boat that had been tracking them, and Stiles had been stealthy as hell and not let any of the people on board catch even a glimpse of his golden-brown tail.

His dad had just looked at him, too many lines on his face for someone still so relatively young, and said, “Kiddo, your mom—”

And that had been that. His dad brought up his mom so rarely that whenever he did, Stiles would shut up and listen to him no matter what.

Of course, that didn’t mean that Stiles would always follow what his dad told him to do. The other part of the agreement, other than the family dinners, was that Stiles could not step outside of the Beacon boundary line without someone else with him. His dad had enlisted all of the nosy Beacon residents to ensure that Stiles stuck to that deal even when he wasn’t there, and pretty much everyone had taken to the task with a suspicious level of enthusiasm. Stiles hadn’t had the chance to stick the tip of his fin over the shells that delineated the boundary without someone clucking their tongue at him and bringing him back inside. He could usually convince to let him go if Scott was with him, but even Scott was loyal to his dad and didn’t let Stiles wander too far away from the colony.

Basically, for the past month and a half, he had been suffering from the worst case of cabin fever _ever_.

Only the fact that Beacon was hosting this year’s Gathering had allowed him to escape his normally eagle-eyed neighbors and swim nearly all the way out to shore to his favorite napping location. Technically, he was supposed to be collecting nautilus shells for decorating the colony, but since everyone under the age of twenty had been voluntold to collect shells, he figured no one would catch him if he skipped out on his duties. He knew that Scott and his girlfriend Kira had blown off the shells to go make-out near the secluded kelp forest anyway, so he wasn’t the only one shirking. Besides, he was sure that the sole reason they’d put all the youngsters on shell duty was to keep them out of the way while the adults stressed about the final few details before all the guests started arriving tomorrow.

His freedom for the day was over though, and the lovely nap he’d been having was a just a memory. Despite the minor heart attack the ship’s horn had given him, Stiles supposed he did have to thank it for waking him up in time to make it home and have dinner ready before his dad got back. If he’d overslept…well, he did not want to think about the state his dad would be in.

Stiles had just brought out the last of the fish they had left when his dad came home. He yelled a hello when he heard the familiar sounds of his dad putting away his badge and his trident (a stereotype, sure, but hey, the humans had to get _some_ things right) and tried to school his face so that his dad couldn’t see his reaction to the fish’s pungent smell. His dad had caught it a few days ago, and Stiles had no idea what kind of fish it was, or where his dad had even found it, but he hadn’t had the heart to throw it out after seeing the proud look on his dad’s face as he showed off his catch. It was basically the only thing left in their food stock anyway, since they had donated most of the other stuff to the committee in charge of food for the Gathering.

“My fish,” his dad said, pleased, as he came into the dining room. He ruffled Stiles’ hair as he passed by him, and Stiles yelped, said, “ _Dad_ ,” but by the look on his dad’s face, he knew it was mostly for show. They were both usually very open with their physical affection: Stiles could vouch that Stilinski hugs were top-notch, but after his mom – well, it had taken them a while to get back on track.

“How did your shell collecting go today?” his dad asked, raising his eyebrows at the work of modern art Stiles was creating on his plate with the discarded fish bones.

“Good, fine, it went well,” Stiles said, flashing his dad a quick, angelic smile. “Collected a lot of cool shells, you know how it goes.”

His dad _hmm_ -ed in that tone that meant he knew something was up, but he didn’t deem it important enough to follow up currently. Stiles tried to look as innocent as possible without being too obvious.

“Well, you’d better not be doing anything dangerous for the next few days, kiddo,” his dad said. “Most of the delegations are coming in tomorrow and I would like to be sure that you’re safe and not out getting into trouble with anyone new.”

Stiles perked up. “Ooh, is the Kim clan coming this year? I want to get some of their fermented fish, Scott’s mom brought some home last year and it was delicious. And Danny mentioned that the Hale clan might be coming this year too, is that true?”

His dad sighed and said, “No trouble, Stiles, I mean it.”

“Me, get into trouble?” Stiles scoffed, and then sobered up at the look in his dad’s eye. “Yeah, dad, I promise. No seeking trouble. Can you tell me the guest list now?”

His dad rolled his eyes, but Stiles saw the way his eyes were crinkling up, even if his mouth wasn’t smiling. It made him feel a little guilty for having his fins crossed when he made that promise, but only a little bit. If he was careful, his dad would never have to know, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

***

The next morning, Stiles woke up to an empty house. It was almost afternoon, based on the bright blue of the water, so he made himself presentable, scarfed down some leftover fish, and headed over to the McCall house for his weekly hang out date with Scott. 

He let himself in through the front door, using the key Mrs. McCall kept under a fake shell, and made a note to ask her for a copy of the key for himself again. It wasn’t like he really needed it, but it would be nice to have one, just for emergencies. She had always refused him in the past, but maybe now that he was 18, she’d accept.

He rifled through their storage space, sighing when he found it mostly as empty as his own, except for a box of those weird seaweed snacks Scott loved. He picked up a packet and went to Scott’s room, only to find Scott lying on his back, snoring away, deep brown tail twitching in his sleep. Stiles looked at him and grinned for a second, a warm fondness in his chest. He’d seen Scott like this so many times before, from their first sleepover when they were six, to every time they crashed at each other’s house after a late-night gaming session. Each time, Stiles wanted to pinch Scott’s cheeks, to let out some of the affection that built up in him with each happy memory.

He didn’t pinch his cheeks this time, instead throwing the packet of seaweed at his face and yelling, “Wake up, asshole!”

Scott groaned, opened his bleary eyes and then immediately closed them. “Y’re too early,” he mumbled.

“It’s almost 1 pm, Scotty,” Stiles said, flopping down onto the bed next to him. “It’s way past early, unless you’re referring to early afternoon.” 

Scott groaned again, rolling onto his side, his back facing Stiles. “I don’t wanna wake up,” he said. “I was having such a nice dream, too.”

“Too bad,” Stiles said, poking him right under the gills on his ribs. Scott yelped and flipped over, crushing Stiles’ hand underneath his torso, and then they were wrestling, Stiles giggling the entire time and the poor seaweed package making ominous sounds under their combined weight.

“I give, I give,” Scott gasped eventually, one of Stiles’ elbows perilously close to his forehead and his tail a warm, heavy bulk on Stiles’ chest. Stiles let him go, detangling himself and rolling over to a more comfortable position. Scott leaned over and grabbed the pack of seaweed, making a sad face when he opened it to find only crushed fragments. He popped them into his mouth anyway, ignoring Stiles’ grossed out face. 

“So,” Stiles began, ready to tell Scott everything he’d found out yesterday. “Dad told me that a lot of the delegations are bringing their kids this year, and quite of a few of them are 18 this year, so we’ll have a lot of new people to look forward to.”

Scott hummed around his seaweed, gesturing for Stiles to go on.

“The Kim clan is totally coming, tell your mom to get more of their fish,” Stiles said, and Scott nodded. He’d loved the fish too. “Also, dude, my dad said the Hale clan might come, and they might bring along their kids too. I can’t wait to see them, I want to find out which of the rumors about them are true.”

Scott snorted, and Stiles huffed at him. Scott had never been into the history and the rumors surrounding many of the various clans and families, not in the way Stiles had. Stiles had even made convoluted family trees mapping out whatever information he could get about the most mysterious clans, and while Scott had helped him draw the trees and pick out the right colors, his interest had ended there.

“I also managed to get an advance copy of the schedule from Dad, so we should totally decide which events we want to go to and which ones we should skip,” Stiles continued.

“Aw, dude,” Scott said, looking at Stiles with his big sad puppy-dog eyes. “You know Kira and I already made a lot of plans for the evenings, it’s the first time we’ll get to spend without my mom or her parents around all the time.”

Stiles twisted his mouth. “I know, man, but really – not even one event? You know this is the first one where we can actually go to all the restricted events.”

Stiles knew Kira and Scott had just made their relationship official a few days ago, and that they’d love to have some time alone, especially considering that Kira’s mom, in particular, was pretty intense about keeping an eye on them since this was Kira’s first real relationship. He knew that they’d probably skip out on most of the Gathering events, but he’d hoped that he and Scott could make it to at least a few together, to commemorate their first Gathering as adults. The last Gathering they’d attended together had been when they were both little, barely five years old, and Stiles hardly remembered anything from it.

“Hey, give me the schedule and I’m sure we can figure something out,” Scott said, smiling at him, always the eternal optimist, and Stiles handed him the schedule, filching Scott’s remaining seaweed in turn. It tasted bland and papery, but Stiles ate it anyway. He was a growing boy, he needed the sustenance.

“Look, I can make it to the big dinner on the first day, once the opening ceremonies are done, and then to the after-party on the fourth day,” Scott said after a while, elbowing Stiles.

“You can’t make it to the party at the Beluga on the second day?” Stiles asked, shoulders slumping. The Beluga was the biggest club Beacon had, and Stiles had always wanted to go there. He could have gone earlier, probably, but it was also just a short distance away from the station where his dad worked, and fell right into the area his dad liked to patrol on slow nights. This time, though, he’d have a legit alibi for being there, but he couldn’t imagine going there, facing a group of unknown people in a completely new situation, without Scott’s comforting presence at his side.

“That’s the day I’m planning on taking Kira out to that new sushi restaurant,” Scott said, eyes getting bigger with liquid sadness. “I know you always wanted to go to Beluga, man, I’m so sorry I can’t make it…maybe I could come right after the date? I’m sure Kira won’t mind!”

Stiles put on a smile, and shook his head, swallowing his disappointment. “Nah man, it’s okay – I can probably just ask around or go alone, I don’t want to disrupt your date night plans.”

“Hey,” Scott said seriously, looking him in the eye. “It won’t be a disruption, okay? If you want me to come, it’s definitely okay. You’re my brother, dude, you know I won’t say no if you asked.”

Stiles had a love/hate relationship with Scott’s perceptiveness, sometimes. He smiled, for real this time, though, and said, “I know, but it’s okay, I’ll be fine. You deserve to have a night out with Kira.”

Scott beamed back, and said, “I’m sure you’ll find someone to come with you; it’s not like we’re in middle school anymore, we’re actually cool now!”

Stiles grinned back and nodded, and then switched the conversation to safer subjects.

***

After he left Scott’s house a couple of hours later, Stiles kept on circling back to the upcoming events. Scott was right, they weren’t in middle school anymore, and they did have friends outside of each other now. In theory, he could ask some of the other people he’d gotten to know over the past couple of years. He’d become better friends with Lydia once he’d gotten over his childhood crush on her, and Allison was always fun to hang out with, and he was sure neither of them would turn down the opportunity to go to the Gathering’s restricted events.

The thing was, for all Stiles liked spending time with them, he wasn’t in the mood to third-wheel while they flirted their way to the potential romance that had been brewing between them. Plus, while Scott and Allison’s break-up from last year had been amicable, Stiles knew he still had a tendency to stick his fins in his mouth more often than not, and he didn’t want to risk jeopardizing anything.

Danny was another possibility, but with Danny came Jackson, and the less said about Jackson the better, especially now that he and Lydia were over for good.

In practice then, he was pretty much alone. With that uplifting thought in mind, going home and waiting for his dad to come back from work wasn’t an appealing idea at all. He didn’t know what anyone else was up to, and didn’t feel like finding out, so he only had one real option left to him: go exploring. He wandered over to the park near his house, and swam in lazy circles for a few minutes, debating where to go. There were a surprising number of creepy places to explore near Beacon, including the old shipwreck a mile or so away from his house, the odd spot of warm water that spiraled up from the sandy seafloor next to the general store, and the underground cave network his dad had expressly forbidden him from going to until he underwent training for cave exploration.

He finally decided on going to the shipwreck. He'd been there once before with Scott, before he'd been grounded, but they hadn't really done a thorough exploration of it. Plus, if he got caught up in exploring and missed the sunset, he could make it home in a jiffy. He stopped by his house just to make sure his dad hadn't come home unexpectedly, and then headed off to the shipwreck, thoughts of the Gathering pushed to the back of his mind and his body thrumming with excitement.

The shipwreck loomed in front of him, the water getting darker as he got nearer. It was covered in barnacles and algae, broken slats of wood sticking out of the top. He could see little fish darting in and out of it, and probably an octopus or two had made its home in it as well. There would be artifacts of human life in there too, and there were always rumors floating around about the hidden treasure buried deep in the wreckage. His dad scoffed at the idea of buried treasure, but Stiles could always hope.

He slowed down as he got within touching distance of the ship, trying to decide the best way to go about his exploration. The pothole he'd used last time was now covered in kelp, and Stiles made a face at it. Kelp was always slimy and gross, and made him feel uncomfortable, so that was out. He hummed to himself softly as he swum around the front end of the ship, picking up one of the slats that had fallen to the seafloor and using it to poke at areas of the ship that looked particularly fragile and good for making an entryway.

He fell into a rhythm, poking along to the tune of the song he was humming. He was so lost in it that when someone, right behind him, said, "I don't think you're supposed to be here," Stiles shrieked and flailed, the wooden board flipping out of his hands only to hit him in the face.

"What the fuck," Stiles said, clutching his sore nose (that thankfully didn't seem broken) and turned around to find a boy staring at him balefully with his arms crossed over his chest. "Who the hell are you?"

"None of your business," the boy said, mouth pulled down into a scowl.

"It _is_ my business if you're scaring people, giving them heart attacks and potentially breaking their noses," Stiles said, dropping his hands from his face and swimming a little closer to the boy. "And if I'm not supposed to be here, I definitely don't think you are, either. I've never seen you around Beacon before, are you here for the Gathering?"

The boy's eyes had widened as Stiles had kept talking, and he swum backwards to maintain the distance between them. Stiles absently noted that his tail was a lovely green-blue, scales shimmering in the little light that filtered through the dark water.

"Well?" Stiles asked, when the boy didn't offer any answers. Stiles floated towards him, watching with interest as the boy scrambled back again. "You can tell me who you are, or I can keep on pushing you until you hit that patch of coral behind you, which I know from personal experience hosts a family of extremely irritable sea snakes," Stiles said.

The boy stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at the innocent-looking coral patch. Stiles saw the exact moment when the boy decided to not test his statement, huffing and swimming away from the danger, towards Stiles, and grinned to himself. He actually didn’t know if there was a population of sea snakes in that coral, but he was extremely pleased that the threat had worked. He’d have to keep it in mind for the next time he needed to use it, probably on Jackson, that dick.

“I’m Stiles, by the way,” he said as the boy got closer. At this distance, Stiles could see the dark dusting of stubble on his cheeks, and he bumped the estimate of the boy's age up a couple of years. He could also see the seafoam green of his eyes, which complemented his tail nicely, the dark ring of eyelashes that surrounded them, and to top it all off, the thick eyebrows that were still drawn together.

Stiles shook his head to clear it – now was not the time to get caught up in thinking about the attractiveness of a random, mysterious stranger – and squinted at the guy.

“This is where you introduce yourself, by the way, Shipwreck Guy. Are you here for the Gathering?”

"Shipwreck – what?” said the guy, eyebrows dancing across his forehead. He shook his head in confusion and then glanced at Stiles for a second before staring out into the water. “I am here for the Gathering," he added, sounding like he had been asked to reveal his most private secrets.

“Shouldn't you be at the welcoming thing then, getting your room and all assigned to you?" Stiles asked. 

The guy shrugged, reluctant to give up more information, but then took a look at Stiles' eager face and sighed. "Yeah, I - my delegation already went through all of that."

"Oh, which delegation are you from?" Stiles asked, his curiosity not satisfied with the guy's short answers. "And what are you doing out here then, shouldn't you be relaxing in your room in Beacon's finest accommodations?"

“It was just – a lot,” the guy said, shoulders drawn up almost to his ears. “The brochure they gave us – it said that this place was off-limits, usually, so I figured no one else would be here.”

“And then you ran into me,” Stiles said, not without sympathy. He could be a handful, he knew. “Well, at least I’m not a crazy serial killer.”

The guy’s head whipped around so fast that little bubbles formed around his face, his eyes wide.

Stiles snickered. “Kidding, kidding,” he said, flapping his hand at the guy and his cross face. “There are no serial killers in Beacon, that I know of at least. You still haven’t told me what delegation you’re from, by the way, don’t think you can distract me from that important detail.”

The guy’s eyebrows wiggled and then settled on an expression that could be described charitably as bemused, and more accurately as constipated. “I have to go,” he said abruptly, and then scowled, eyes flicking over Stiles one last time before he started swimming back towards Beacon at a pace Stiles didn’t want to match. 

“What – but you just got here!” Stiles said, and then when the guy didn’t stop, he yelled, “Just you wait, I’m going to find you, Shipwreck Guy!”

He watched the guy’s figure fade into the distance, and grinned. Scott could spend all his time with Kira, Stiles had a new puzzle to figure out.

***

Stiles yawned, remembering to slap his hand over his mouth at the last minute. Thankfully, the seats next to him were empty, no one there to criticize him about proper manners. He was sitting in Beacon’s biggest amphitheater, situated right in the center of the city, watching the opening ceremony for the Gathering. 

He’d expected something a little more bombastic, given the big fuss everyone had made about the Gathering as a whole, but so far, there had been nothing interesting, just a couple of long-winded speeches and then the introduction of the various visiting clans. Stiles had straightened up and clapped when they’d announced the first few families he knew, but then he’d decided that it all required too much effort from him. Besides, the water was warm from the sun, and he felt quite ready for a nap. Scott and Kira had made a cursory appearance, and then snuck out, and Stiles hadn’t been able to spot Lydia or Allison in the crush of people at the amphitheater’s entrance. There was no one to chastise him for leaving early, especially since his dad was all the way at the front, keeping an eye on the audience and the guests alike.

He had just made up his mind to sneak out from one of the side entrances and go home to nap when the announcer boomed, “And now, the Hale family, all the way from Lykaia!”

Stiles sat up so fast he almost fell into the row in front of him, and started clapping on instinct, ignoring the dirty looks the people he’d almost toppled into gave him.

He craned his neck, trying to get a better view of the famed family heading up to the stage. The first one was a woman with long black hair falling around her shoulders, waving softly with the motion of the water, her tail a bright green-blue that looked oddly familiar. That must be Talia, the matriarch of the Hale family, renowned for both her strength and her diplomacy skills. She was followed by a man with a friendly grin on his face, who was probably her husband, William. Then came a young woman, probably a few years older than Stiles – but Stiles didn't catalog much about her, attention caught by the guy following her. It was Shipwreck Guy, coming onto stage with a supremely grumpy look on his face, tail stiff as a board (no wonder Talia's tail had looked familiar), stubble gone from his cheeks, making him look years younger. As Stiles stared at him, he saw his ears and the gills on his neck turning a bright red from embarrassment at the enthusiastic clapping from the audience.

Stiles had to resist the urge to cackle with glee. Shipwreck Guy wasn't so mysterious after all, and he didn't even have to pester him for his name, as the announcer introduced him as Derek Hale, and Shipwreck Guy – _Derek's_ face slowly turned red, as some daring audience member let out a loud whoop. The rest of the Hale delegation was announced, but Stiles was barely listening, eyes still fixed on Derek and his adorable scowl. He mentally willed Derek to look up into the stands, look up and make eye contact with Stiles, but Derek kept his gaze firmly down, fixed on the ground. The Hales moved off the stage, and then Stiles lost track of them in the horde of people surrounding them.

He suppressed the small pang of disappointment in his chest and wiggled in his seat. He was still going to sneak out before the ceremony ended, but the thrill of finding out a little more about Shipwreck Guy was enough to keep him awake for a little while more.

The announcer moved on from the Hales, next introducing the Sharma clan, and Stiles clapped absently, trying to see if he could spot the Hales somehow. By the time the announcer had gone onto the Khan clan, Stiles hadn’t found them again, but he had found a good place to escape from. He made his way out into the aisle, and then tried to make his way to the little isolated side entrance he’d spied as inconspicuously as possible.

He did run into two people and accidentally smack someone with his tail, but otherwise it went smoothly. He managed not to fistpump in glee, and then looked to his right to see a figure emerging from another close-by entrance (which Stiles had avoided since old Mrs. Weatherby was sitting next to it, and she would definitely rat him out to his dad). The figure stepped out of the shadow of the amphitheater and resolved itself into Derek, clearly sneaking out again, just like Stiles.

“Yo, Derek!” Stiles called, and Derek jumped, whirling around. His eyes widened when he saw Stiles and the wide grin on his face, and then narrowed, a questioning look on his face.

“Yup, saw you get introduced to the Beacon community, so you’re not that mysterious anymore, Shipwreck Guy,” Stiles said, swimming closer to Derek. “Were you sneaking out again?”

“Obviously,” Derek said, grumpy again. He looked around himself and realized what Stiles already knew: there was nowhere for him to hide himself. Beacon, for all the weird places in and around it, was still a pretty clean and non-shady colony, with no convenient alleyways or nooks. 

“Hey,” Stiles said to get Derek’s attention. “I’m sneaking out too, want to come join me? I can give you a tour of all of Beacon’s wonderful attractions.” He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

Derek hesitated, then sighed. “Sure, why not,” he said, “but you better not talk too much.”

Stiles snorted. “Can’t promise that, dude, but I can tell you that this will be better than any other tour you’ve ever taken. Now c’mon before someone finds us out here.” 

Derek sighed again, but followed Stiles willingly enough, and Stiles grinned to himself.

***

Despite his initial reticence, Derek was a surprisingly good conversationalist. Stiles listened to him talk about the various pranks his sisters had pulled on him, the fond exasperation shining through his tone, as Stiles wiggled to find a comfortable position on the rock outcropping.

Derek had been hesitant about heading this far out of Beacon’s boundary, but Stiles had managed to convince him, mostly by making his eyes as big and sad as possible, batting his eyelashes, and playing up the awesomeness of his favorite napping spot. Stiles was glad Derek had agreed in the end, since the mid-afternoon sun was bright and warm, and the water was cool and clear, and Derek’s arm was tantalizingly close to his own, hands within holding distance.

Stiles settled in and looked over at Derek, who had a small, happy smile on his face as he talked about his sisters. Before they’d left Beacon, Derek had insisted on stopping by the room he was sharing with Laura and telling her that they were going to be outside the colony’s boundaries, just in case. Laura had scrutinized them with narrowed eyes as Derek had told her their plans, and once Stiles had introduced himself she had looked at him with an expression that was at once knowing and incredibly amused.

“So you’re that guy, huh,” she’d said, before Derek had punched her arm and glared. She had grinned widely, obviously enjoying Derek’s discomfort, and promised to come find them if anything happened. She then winked at Stiles and told him to make sure Derek had a good time, and while Stiles had been fumbling to find a response to that, Derek, blushing a furious red, had grabbed his arm and pulled him away, Laura’s laughter trailing behind them.

Derek had staunchly refused to answer any of Stiles’ questions, even once they were out of Laura’s hearing range, crossing his arms over his chest and pretending like he couldn’t hear Stiles, ears and neck still bright pink. Stiles refused to find it adorable.

Eventually, he had shifted the conversation to safer topics. They had swum all the way out to the sandy boundary of the outcropping, Stiles chattering about Scott and his dad and everyone else he knew in Beacon, telling Derek about all of his adventures. They’d swum close to each other, closer than people who had just met properly should have, but Stiles couldn’t care less. 

Derek asked leading questions at the right moment, laughed when the story called for it, and then, without probing questions from Stiles, even launched into some stories of his own. Stiles had constantly glanced over at him, taking in how his reserved demeanor fell away as he talked about his family and his best friends, how his voice turned warm and fond. Every so often, he caught Derek glancing over at him too, and each time their eyes met, Stiles had to fight back the blush threatening to take over his face.  

A sharp splash of water to his face brought him back to the present. Stiles sputtered and almost fell off the rock, only to be anchored by Derek’s hand wrapping around his upper arm and hauling him up. He looked over at Derek, whose tail was still raised up and ready to splash him again, a grin hiding in the quirked corner of his mouth.

“What the hell,” Stiles said, wiping the water off his face, mock-offended. He ducked his head, trying to hide his own smile. 

“Sand dollar for your thoughts?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. His wet hair glittered in the sunlight, bangs falling onto his forehead, and his pale eyes were looking straight at Stiles, curious.

Stiles opened his mouth, his brain to mouth filter disappearing, and he said, “Are you half-siren?”

Derek stared at him, mouth half open, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” 

“Because your everything is really calling to me,” Stiles’ traitorous mouth said without his permission, and he belatedly slapped his hand over his mouth. He’d thought of this (awful, he knew) pick-up line one night when he was lying in bed, unable to sleep, and he’d snorted to himself and kept it for future use, but he’d never imagined _this_ would be the occasion his brain would bring it up.

Derek looked at him for a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity. Stiles frantically contemplated throwing himself back into the ocean face-first, if only to relieve the way his face was burning now. Derek was probably wondering how he’d managed to get himself all the way out to a random rock with someone as weird as Stiles, and Stiles had been reading their interactions all wrong, and then Derek would leave as grumpily as he had come, and then Stiles would have no one to hang out with for the Gathering–

“No,” Derek said.

Stiles lifted his eyes to Derek’s face, which was set in his constipated expression. “No?” he asked, confused.

“No, I’m not half-siren,” Derek said, his face slowly turning pink again. “But you might be.”

Stiles gaped at him, waiting for an explanation. He was like a siren as in _his_ everything called to Derek too?

“Your voice,” Derek clarified, when Stiles didn’t respond. “It’s very—”

Stiles thought of a dozen possibilities (enchanting? bewitching? melodious?) while Derek paused, struggling for the right word.

“Distinctive,” Derek said, finally, and Stiles blinked. “And it calls to me.”

Derek’s neck was all red now, and his flush was spreading down his chest. He ducked his head and looked at Stiles through his eyelashes, face ridiculously hopeful, and Stiles couldn’t handle it anymore. He flung himself at Derek, laughing a little, knowing that he hadn’t read the situation wrong at all, and they both tumbled down to the very edge of the sand, tails splashing in the water and droplets landing on his back, making him shiver. Derek was pinned underneath him, looking up with big green eyes, and Stiles leaned down, their noses just barely brushing.

“Is this okay?” he asked, and once Derek nodded, Stiles closed the minute distance between them, and carefully kissed him, a soft brush of lips. Derek’s eyes fluttered shut and Stiles had to bite back the grin threatening to take over his face.

“I’m going to tell everyone that my distinctive voice is a thing for you,” Stiles said, watching Derek open his eyes. “And you’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of the Gathering, just so you know.”

Derek smiled at him. “I can live with that,” he said, and Stiles beamed back at him.

“We’re going to go on a double date with Scott and Kira, and I’m going to take you to the Beluga, and introduce you as my boo,” Stiles continued, just to warn him beforehand. Derek rolled his eyes at the boo comment, but grinned and nodded at Stiles anyway.

“ _And_ my dad is probably going to interrogate the hell out of you,” Stiles added, as a final point.

“It’s okay,” Derek said. “You have to meet my family, too.” He laughed when Stiles groaned, and pulled him down for another kiss. Stiles smiled into it, feeling Derek’s lips curve under his own in return. His dad would definitely do his best to intimidate Derek, and if the rest of Derek’s family was anything like Laura, Stiles wouldn’t be let off the hook either, but Stiles was kind of looking forward to it.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find us on tumblr @[pseudoapollonian](http://pseudoapollonian.tumblr.com/) (I mostly lurk, but I'd love to take prompts!) and @[alphahel](http://alphahel.tumblr.com/) :)


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